21 Guns
by TheShanTM
Summary: Dally's thoughts as he prepares to die. SongFic.


**A/N: Okay, I leave for camp tomorrow, so this is really the last thing I'm posting until I get back. I was talking to XxXFlowerChildXxX and she said I should write a Songfic about Dally and I intended to write it after camp, but I couldn't sleep and needed something to do after Scrubs went off, so I wrote this. The song choice is rather cliche, I know, I apologize. Try to enjoy it anyways?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Outsiders, the song, or the band.**

**Song: 21 Guns**

**Artist: Green Day**

**Fandom: The Outsiders**

**Characters: Dallas**

**Pairings: None**

**Word Count: 1428**

**Summery: Dally's thoughts as he prepares to die.**

_'Do you know what's worth fighting for?_

_When it's not worth dying for?_

_Does it take your breath away_

_And you feel yourself suffocating?'_

I sprinted out of the hospital room, only one thing on my mind: Johnny was dead.

Johnny, the one person who had actually looked up to me. The one person who knew who I was, who I really was, and still looked at me as if I were some sort of hero.

I'm not going to lie, I forgot Ponyboy was even in the room. All I could think about was that the one kid who understood me was actually dead, and wasn't this the sort of thing I came to Tulsa to get away from?

I realized something about myself in that white, annoyingly clean room.

I realized what a damn coward I really am.

All these years I've been here, fighting Socs, hell, fighting everyone, and for what? To make myself look tough? To make people afraid of me?

_'Does the pain weigh out the pride?_

_And you look for a place to hide?_

_Did someone break your heart inside?_

_You're in ruins'_

Anyone who's met me knows I'm a prideful guy. I take pride in my criminal record, my hair, my fighting skills, everything.

But at that moment, I wasn't proud of anything about myself.

I was hurting, I was afraid, and I wanted to hide.

I stormed into a random room, not even sure what I was doing anymore.

"Hey, you," Someone yelled, "You're not allowed in here!"

Why the hell would they yell at me? Couldn't they tell how lost I was?

I pulled out my empty heater, the one I used for a bluff and pointed it at the guy who was yelling at me. He looked scared.

I liked it.

"I'm allowed wherever I want," I said, my voice sounding much stronger than I felt.

Laughing, I pulled the trigger a few times.

Nothing happened, obviously, and the guy looked pissed. I just ran off.

_'One, 21 guns_

_Lay down your arms, give up the fight_

_One, 21 guns_

_Throw up your arms into the sky, you and I'_

I kept on running and, before long, I was in a little store.

Not really knowing what else to do, I started flipping through magazines.

"Ahem," The guy behind the register cleared his throat loudly.

I looked at him.

He didn't say anything, so I went back to my magazine.

"You wanna buy one of those, Son?" He asked, finally finding his voice.

It pissed me off.

Just because I was a greaser, he thought I was gonna rob his damn store?

Why the fuck was everyone on my damn case today? They should know, they should all know, that Johnny is dead, fucking dead, and I don't know what I'm doing anymore! They should leave me the hell alone!

Laughing bitterly, I ripped up the magazine.

"Y'know, you tear those up, you're gonna have to pay for 'em. Don't do that!"

Then, it dawned on me.

I knew what I had to do.

_'When you're at the end of the road_

_And you lost all sense of control_

_And your thoughts have taken their toll_

_When your mind breaks the spirit of your soul'_

I walked angrily up to the counter and reached into my pocket, trying to look threatening.

"You know, you gotta pay for that magazine," The damn clerk reminded me.

I pulled out my empty heater again and put it right in front of his face.

I saw it again, the look of terror in his eyes.

I didn't enjoy it as much this time.

"Give me the money," I said quietly. When he didn't move, I yelled, "Give me the money!"

He held it out to me and I took it and ran.

_'Your faith walks on broken glass_

_And the hangover doesn't pass_

_Nothing's ever built to last_

_You're in ruins'_

I didn't think he'd have a heater on him.

I didn't care that he did.

Hell, I didn't even realize he shot me until I finally stopped running at the phone.

I dialed the number as quickly as I could. I knew the cops would be showing up soon.

As soon as somebody picked up, I blurted out, "Darry?"

"Naw, it's Steve," the voice on the other end of the phone said, "Dally?"

"I want to talk to Darry," I said, glancing behind me. As soon as the cops showed up, I knew it would all be over.

The only problem was, I wasn't sure if that's what I wanted anymore.

I was scared.

_'One, 21 guns_

_Lay down your arms, give up the fight_

_One, 21 guns_

_Throw up your arms into the sky, you and I'_

"Hello," Darry said into the phone. I smiled slightly.

_Maybe it won't have to end like that._

"Darry?"

"Yeah."

"I just robbed a store, man," I said, talking fast, "The cops are looking for me. Meet me at the park?"

"Sure, Dal." I was relieved. Maybe, I thought, just maybe I can make it out okay.

"Yeah. Johnny's dead." I felt like I had to add it. So he'd know why I was doing this, in case I didn't make it out okay.

"We know," Darry said, surprising me.

_Guess Ponyboy made it home okay, then. That's a good thing._

I heard sirens in the distance. I was running out of time.

"Look, meet me in the park, will ya?"

"Alright, Dal."

_'Did you try to live on your own_

_When you burned down the house and home?_

_Did you stand too close to the fire_

_Like a liar looking for forgiveness from a stone?'_

And then, I was running again. I saw a cop car close behind me and I knew how this was going to end.

I had known, from the beginning how it would end, I think.

I at least know that I never had any intention of going back to jail.

I think the real reason I had called Darry was so he could tell the rest of the gang, once it happened. I was sorry he'd have to see it, but I knew someone had to.

Someone had to know how it ended, because I sure as hell wasn't going to be able to tell this story.

_'When it's time to live and let die_

_And you can't get another try_

_Something inside this heart has died_

_You're in ruins'_

And then, everything happened at once.

I ran under a street light and the cops caught up to me.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Darry running up...with the rest of the gang.

Dammit! They weren't supposed to see this, they weren't supposed to see me like this!

I raised up my heater again, my bluff, and pointed it at the cops, knowing damn well how it would end.

I heard various yells from the gang.

"No!"

"Don't shoot!"

"He's just a kid!"

But, at the same time, I heard gunshots, a lot of them, coming from the guns of various different cops. Not even a second after I heard those loud cracks, I felt them.

_'One, 21 guns_

_Lay down your arms, give up the fight_

_One, 21 guns_

_Throw up your arms into the sky'_

For what felt like hours, but was probably only seconds, a minute at most, there was nothing but the pain.

I fell back and saw the gang, just staring at me in horror.

Ponyboy looked as if he were going to pass out, or cry, or both. Poor kid. I felt guilty for leaving him in the hospital room, then.

Sodapop was just staring, mouth open eyes wide. He probably didn't understand why I was doing this. I hoped he'd never have to, either.

I was surprised when I looked at Two-Bit, because for once that giddy idiot wasn't smiling. He sure as hell wasn't cracking no jokes, either. I realized, then, that I still had his damn switchblade. He'd never see it again. Sorry, Two-Bit.

The look on Steve's face surprised me, too. He looked like he was about to cry. Steve! He was probably one of the toughest greasers in our gang. Imagining him actually crying reminded me that everyone had a breaking point. I'd reached mine tonight.

Darry looked horrified. He was shaking his head slowly, as if he could make me stop dying by sheer willpower. I knew he was wishing he'd come alone, or gotten here earlier, but there was nothing he could have done. I made this decision myself.

In the last second before the darkness swallowed me, I was sorry they'd had to see me like this. I never meant to hurt them, they'd all always been like a family to me.

I felt guilty that I'd left them to mourn the death of two of their family members in one night, but there was nothing I could do.

That was my last thought.

And then, it all went black and the pain stopped, along with the noise and everything else.

_'One, 21 guns_

_Lay down your arms, give up the fight_

_One, 21 guns_

_Throw up your arms into the sky'_

**A/N: Well, there it is. Hope you liked it, remember to review! I'll see all of you on Friday, which is when I get back! (I think? Not the best with dates.)**


End file.
